


self-inflicted false imprisonment

by ElasticElla



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Michaela should have applied for the Stanford transfer.
Relationships: Laurel Castillo/Wes Gibbins/Michaela Pratt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	self-inflicted false imprisonment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/gifts).



Michaela should have applied for the Stanford transfer. Right now, she could have been studying on the beach, sipping daiquiris with Connor, safe if not totally sound. She'd probably be dating someone new, someone boring and pretty that wouldn't dream of winding up dead or in jail. 

Instead, she's in Annalise's living room, struggling to study for a midterm. Oliver's curled up on the opposite armchair, looking for his old job at a new place. He hasn't been trying hard, clings onto the room like Connor might come back still. It's sad, in a vaguely, oddly normal type of way. Michaela wishes there was a way that wouldn't be totally weird to set him and Aiden up. They could be cute and common and out of harm's way together. 

Asher's studying in Bonnie's office, and Michaela feels ridiculously relieved that she won't have to worry about that happening again. Far too needy. A simple fluke because the end felt near, and he was there, open and easy with hands just as bloody as hers.

Frank's out with Annalise, and that leaves the quiet two. And quiet as they may be, they're still extraordinarily distracting. Laurel's book is propped up against Wes's leg, one hand splayed on his thigh and the other flipping pages. Wes has his notebook on the couch's arm, jotting things down and occasionally running his fingers through her hair. Laurel makes tiny hums of appreciation and Wes's lips quirk up into a small smile, and Michaela isn't getting any damn studying done. 

Her imagination runs wild instead, wonders how they kiss, how they fuck, how they share a bed. It's over-dramatic and sappy and wild and heat floods her body as she can't stop thinking about them. About if they’d ever bring in another, if they’d ever let _her_ \- 

“-including that Michaela?” Wes asks. 

It’s a near thing but she doesn’t jump, thankful her blush is near indiscernible. 

“Yeah, false imprisonment.” 

And fuck an easy analogy, she isn’t _that_ into them. A handful of daydreams, a few real dreams, maybe some fantasies, she basically manufactured herself in lust. Whatever, it’s just because they’re near and attractive. 

That’s all this is.


End file.
